


Walking Through Fire

by QueenHarleyQuinn



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: (Implied Seeds/Dep), (Probably unhealthy but that's to be expected), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Haunting, Supernatural Elements, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHarleyQuinn/pseuds/QueenHarleyQuinn
Summary: Jacob looked at her, his silver eyes shining, and it was like the history of her was expanded before him. Every lie, every ill deed, every life she’d taken. His eyes pierced through her and saw her truest self.“You did everything he said you would do and you didn’t even know it,” he rasps, “you had no fucking clue.”His last breath rattles as R falls to her knees and weeps. Who could have guessed the deputy would mourn a Seed?





	Walking Through Fire

** _“What matters most is how you walk through the fire.”_ **

** _Charles Bukowski_ **

Empathy is not a word in Jacob Seed’s vocabulary. Maybe it had been, years ago before the Army and before the barn fire – when he was just a big brother, standing with his chest puffed out and trying to shoulder the abuse. Or maybe it never had been, maybe whenever John or Joseph had stepped out of line part of Jacob felt like they deserved whatever punishment their foster parents would come up with.

It didn’t really matter, did it? He was still collapsed onto a rocky throne, wheezing as R stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He was still dying and, despite it all, R felt for him. No matter how he pushed and tortured and manipulated, she was still living and breathing and  _ feeling _ . Tears spilled down her cheeks, making clean tracks through dirt and blood.

Jacob looked at her, his silver eyes shining, and it was like the history of her was expanded before him. Every lie, every ill deed, every life she’d taken. His eyes pierced through her and saw her truest self.

“You did everything he said you would do and you didn’t even know it,” he rasps, “you had no fucking clue.”

His last breath rattles as R falls to her knees and weeps. Who could have guessed the deputy would mourn a Seed?

She’s tracking a cougar in Holland Valley, up a steep hill and hidden between the tall trees, a few days later. Boomer follows diligently, noseing her calf like he can sense that R’s eyes keep wandering away from the trail and up toward the clouds. There were probably more noble causes she could be contributing to; bases to set up, supply trucks to ambush, locals to liberate. But that all felt too big just like how all of Hope County felt too big without the three Seeds ruling their domains. Montanna is  _ big sky country _ and for the first time in her life R gets what that means – wide and empty.

And shit, didn’t that just make her awful? R’s the one who killed them. She saw the light leave their eyes, the color drain from their faces. It was hard for her not to flinch every time someone clapped her on the shoulder with pride, saying something like  _ wish I could have put them down myself _ .

She’d just plaster on a weak smile and pretend that Jacob Seed’s dog tags weren’t burning a hole in her pocket.

Hunting helped. The solid weight of her bow and the sounds of the wild becoming a comforting whitenoise. The rush of adrenaline and fear if the animal turned on her and she became prey. Hunting felt a little bit more like an even fight.

The cougar’s pelt shines in the sunlight as it slinks through the tall grass, all grace and precision. R holds her breath as she watches through her sights, crouching from several meters back and a little down hill. She draws back the bolt and-

“A notch to the right, pup.”

The bolt flies a moment too soon and hits a patch of dirt  _ somewhere _ , R can’t be sure where exactly because that’s  _ Jacob Seed’s voice _ sending a shiver down her spine. Her ears ring as she launches herself upright, looking all around her for  _ anything _ to explain this. Boomer chases the cougar up to higher ground as R pats her arms and neck and legs, frantically searching for a bliss bullet because this  _ has _ to be a hallucination.

But there’s nothing and there’s nobody around for miles. She’s alone.

“Sloppy,” He scolds and another chill runs down her spine.

She’s alone and she’s going insane.

R leans her forehead against a nearby tree. The rough bark scrapes her skin as she closes her eyes and begs, “Get out of my head. Get out of my head.”

The sun is warm on her back as his  _ laugh _ , low and dark, echoes around her.

Boomer growls, then yelps, and R’s eyes snap open. Thank God for muscle memory because she’s hustling toward the noise with her bow drawn. She’s face to face with a hissing, angry as all hell cougar and R doesn’t even blink. The cougar drops with two bolts sticking out out of its side. R rushes to boomer and bandages his paw, willing her hands to stop shaking.

Birds whistle and the leaves rustle in the wind, sounding a little too much like a song she’ll never be able to forget.

“Hey Dep, don’t freak out or nothin’, but there’s a wolf followin’ us,” Sharky says as they trek out of the Whitetails toward the Henbane.

Sharky, in every way conceivable, is  _ loud. _ Calling him a motormouth is an understatement, not to mention his affinity for fire and blowing things up and, occasionally, going  _ hey, what’s this button do _ only to find out that it’s something very, very  _ noisy. _ It rubs most people the wrong way but so far his nonstop talking has kept  _ other _ voices away. And for that R is grateful.

R blinks, a little confused, as they slow their pace on the trail. Animals stalk them all the time, this should be no different. “Okay...Do you wanna care of it or-”

Sharky shakes his head, “Nah I mean, between Peaches and Cheeseburger, you’ve been havin’ all kinds of Snow White moments with these critters so I figured...y’know.”

R turns and, sure enough, a few yards away a grey wolf eyes her, intense but not aggressive. She squirms, unnerved by the pensive glare. It stands at attention, like it’s waiting for them to resume their journey so it can resume tailing them. 

“Go pet it.”

R rolls her eyes, “I’m not going to go  _ pet it _ .”

They stay like that for a few minutes; half standoff, half observatory. The wolf blinks slowly and R has to wonder if animals can be  _ bored _ , because this one is starting to seem it. It sits but something about the glint of it’s silver eyes and the stillness in the air makes her feel like it’s patience is waning.

“Holy shit,” R gasps, her hands scrabbling for her bow because she knows that expression. She knows those eyes.

It howls, loud and pained, before she can even fire the first bolt. There’s a flash of grey fur darting for the treeline and it’s gone.

R doesn’t realize she’s crying until Sharky’s taking the bow out of her hands and throwing an arm around her shaking shoulders, “C’mon, Dep, there’s a quad not too far up ahead just waiting for a joyride.”

Sharky must have told Hurk who probably told Adelaide who must have told  _ everybody _ . That’s how R imagines the rumor mill working, anyway, because when she steps into the spread eagle folks just tip their hats and keep to themselves. Heat rises to her cheeks – most people greet her with a cry for help, a plea to go rescue their friends and loved ones and, sometimes, sentimental objects. She’s the one who gets things done, they all know that.

Mary May smiles at R from behind the bar, pops the cap off a beer and extends it her way. It’s a sad smile, though, like she can feel each heavy step that R takes. “Take it easy for a bit, Rook.”

R just nods. Did Sharky share the whole, god awful thing? The way she bawled into his hoodie on the back of the quad as the drove off. How in the middle of the afternoon dozens of wolves were howling soon after, echoing her uncontrollable cries. Jesus, just thinking about it again was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

One beer turned into four as she sat on the stool furthest from the door. After handing R another Mary May leaned forward, “You must know this county like the back of your hand, already, but my family had this house not too far south. Just before the river. You should go check it out if you haven’t already.” She slides a key and a folded map toward R and walks away to pour drinks at the other end of the bar.

R pockets the map and heads out the moment her bottle is empty.

R had seen the house before, it turns out, but never had the opportunity to do much more than sack the garage for ammo. It was far enough off the main roads that she didn’t have to worry too much about any rogue, peggie vans. A decent, one story home with two bedrooms and bathrooms and a functioning front door – what more could a deputy ask for?

With the deadbolt and chain lock secured R sets her pack onto the kitchen table, then her bow next to it. Sometimes she feels more like walking armory than a person. R keeps the pistol on her hip as she pushes a bookcase to cover one of the shattered windows. The clouds were darkening and, if the slight ache in her left knee is anything to go by, it was going to rain soon.

Her radio crackles on her belt, confirming as much as she microwaves spaghettios. Pastor Jerome, Grace and Mary May all buzz in, warning her to stay indoors for a while. “The house should be a good place for you to rest up, Deputy.” Mary May says kindly just as the rain starts to patter against the roof.

R sits on the kitchen counter as she eats, watching raindrops collide on the window facing the backyard. A broken swing set swayed and creaked as the wind picked up. Tree branches start to beat against the side of the house in an uncoordinated percussion. Rain falls faster, tapping louder and louder. When she was little, she was the only girl in school who  _ liked _ storms, who wasn’t afraid of the rumble of thunder or flash of lightning. Now it was different. Now the sounds were abrasive and unyielding.

Now she was alone in a house and it seemed like the whole world was breaking down around her. And, honestly, maybe she was breaking down with it.

R shivers, and abandons her bowl in the sink in favor of throwing some logs into the fireplace and pushing the couch nearer to it. There were plenty of books on the shelf, classics and thrillers and nonfiction – maybe she’d curl up into a blanket and read something that wasn’t a map or peggie manifesto for once.

Her radio crackles again, unintelligibly as she retrieves pillows and blankets from one of the bedrooms. There’s something muffled coming through, the storm eating up most of the words. R sets the bedding onto the couch before crabbing the radio, “This is Rook. Say again? Over.”

_ “Only you… _ ”

Her heart thuds as the radio falls from her hand, crashing onto the hardwood below.

A flash of lightning strikes and R jumps at the sudden flood of light coming in. Her heartbeat pounds so loudly in her ears that she can barely hear the roll of thunder. She sinks to the ground and picks up the radio with quaking hands, “W-who is this?”

“ _ Oh, don’t play dumb, pup. I trained you better than that. _ ”

The radio falls to R’s lap as she buries her face in her hands. She trembles, “This can’t be happening…”

Wolves howl, eerie and haunting, sounding like they’re surrounding the house. The rain pours and pours while she cowers by the couch. Tears sting behind R’s closed lids and her throat tightens. She breathes in, shakily, through her nose as humming comes in through the radio, clear as day.

_ Only you can make all this world seem right _

_ Only you can make the darkness bright _

R’s stomach twists. Her eyes blink open, hazy, as she grabs the radio and flings it at the wall, hard enough to break it.

The living room around her fades into a red hue as she crawls backward, as far away from the broken radio as she can get. As far away as she can from the noise that is still coming out of it.

_ Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do _

_ And fill my heart with love for only you _

Blood red, everything is blood red and closing in around her. Something chilly squeezes around her throat and R  _ screams _ because it feels like a hand. Panicked, she thrashes; violent and wild like a cornered animal. It squeezes harder and harder, choking her until R’s vision blurs into nothingness.

A warm breeze grazes R’s face and tousels her hair. When she blinks her eyes open, they’re on the mountaintop.  _ His _ mountaintop. She’s kneeling before  _ him _ , just like she had when he died.

The sunrise paints everything in golds and oranges and pinks. The too vivid colors wash over Jacob, giving him an ethereal glow as he sits there looking more king than soldier. Her eyes widen at the sight of him alive and powerful once more.

“Oh, don’t cry for me pup. Did you really think we were done?”

She reaches up and is surprised to feel that her face is wet with tears. “I killed you,” R says, proud that her voice doesn’t waver.

He laughs and the earth rumbles under them, but R’s not afraid. It’s almost a  _ comfort _ the sensation of it, the vibration rippling even through her. “Death is nothing but liberation. You didn’t kill me, pup, you set me  _ free _ .”

Goosebumps spread over her arms. Jacob leans forward, his hand cupping her jaw as they touch foreheads. His skin is warm and rough against hers, “We're connected, you and I. You’re going to be my perfect tool. Forever.”

R tries to rear back, tries to get away from him because she’d rather  _ die _ than be used like that again. But he’s faster and manages to catch R by the throat – not painful, his hand doesn’t tighten or squeeze, but it’s there. He’s in control.

“You’re nothing, Jacob. You’ll always be  _ nothing _ to me.” R grits.

He could choke her, he could fucking  _ kill her _ if the words truly angered him. Jacob quirks a brow instead, “Really? Is that why you wept at my feet? Is that why you carry my tags wherever you go?”

Shame spreads over R’s face, hot and overbearing. “I hate you,” She spits.

Jacob squeezes lightly, almost reassuring, “Lying makes you  _ weak _ , pup. You’re better than that.”

R shivers at the pressure of his fingers against her pulse, shivers at the intensity of his eyes and words. He’s a manipulator, practiced and precise and deadly. R should know, she’s been the subject of his conditioning more than enough times. She’s  _ killed _ for him, soaked herself in blood too many times to count. All for him.

She should despise him and the parts of herself that undoubtedly  _ belonged _ to him. The areas of her mind that he claimed, the swiftness of her body that he created. R should hate him and all his siblings for what they did to her and the county.

“Accept your purpose, pup. Choose to be strong.”

But as she blinks up at him, feeling  _ seen _ by those silver eyes, R knows deep in her gut that she could never hate him.

She  _ is _ him.

Jacob smiles at her, wide and appreciative and wolfish, “Good.” R nearly whimpers at the loss of contact when he retracts his hand. He was supporting her, keeping her upright, so she slumps forward, resting her head against his knee. Rubbing her face into his strong thigh.

He smoothes a hand over her hair,  _ petting _ her. “You’ll be at my side soon enough, pup. But first you have work to do.”

A needy whine rises in her throat and when she opens her eyes there’s a bloody knife in her hand and bodies scattered all around her.

A wolf howls as she screams at the night sky.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a note on my phone as an ambiguous Ghost!Au (where I really wanted the iconic scene from the movie Ghost) and it morphed into something darker very, very quickly. Oops?
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated <3


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